


sink or swim til we fall in love

by foggys_cupcake_girl



Series: Kinktober 2020 [10]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Aphrodisiacs, Blow Jobs, Cinnamon rolls in love, Consensual use of aphrodisiacs, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Kinktober, Lingerie, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Original Percival Graves is a Softie, Tender Sex, day 10 of kinktober and no damns left to give, explosive levels of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:48:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26943148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foggys_cupcake_girl/pseuds/foggys_cupcake_girl
Summary: With the help of some modified love potion, Percival Graves does his absolute damndest to make Credence's first time special.DAY 10 of KinktoberWritten for prompts: Lingerie | Aphrodisiacs |Wax Play|Scat
Relationships: Credence Barebone/Original Percival Graves
Series: Kinktober 2020 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950283
Comments: 10
Kudos: 25





	sink or swim til we fall in love

**Author's Note:**

> Graves would never admit to it in a million years, but right now he’s as nervous as Credence.

His sweetheart lies before him, reclining on the piles of decorative pillows Graves never really knew why he kept on his bed until now. Credence looks absolutely lovely in the rich red satin robe Graves bade him to put on after the hot bath he so lovingly drew for him. He wants this to be good for Credence, wants him to feel as safe and calm and happy as possible. This is important. This, he thinks a little desperately, is the night that will make or break their relationship.

Credence looks up at him through liquid dark eyes, innocent and sweet and utterly vulnerable. “I’m ready,” he says softly.

“Okay, sweetheart. Okay.” Graves picks up the waiting champagne glass from the nightstand and lets Credence see him pour the contents of a tiny crystal vial into it. “Here you go. Slowly, now. It’ll make you dizzy if you drink it too fast.”

Ever trusting, Credence takes the glass and sips at the contents, slowly as instructed. When the glass is empty he politely hands it back to Graves, watching through those dark, wide eyes. “I don’t feel anything yet,” he says as Graves crawls into bed beside him. “Should I?”

“Just relax. It’ll happen, I promise.” Graves reaches over and undoes the knot of the satin robe, smiling at the delicate white camisole and shorts his sweetheart is wearing underneath. “Mm. I like this,” he says, gently stroking Credence’s stomach through the thin white silk.

“I like it too. It feels nice.” Credence’s eyes flutter closed in pleasure as Graves slips his hand underneath the top and caresses his skin. “Oh. That feels nice too.”

“Good. It’s supposed to.” Graves withdraws his hand and slips off his own shirt, sighing in pleasure when Credence reaches out and strokes a hand down his chest. He slides an arm under his love’s shoulders and pulls him in close for a kiss. “That’s it,” he hums against Credence’s lips when he feels the boy melting into his arms. “That’s it, lovely. Just relax and let me take care of you.”

It’s very gratifying to feel Credence giving in to the kiss, to feel him shivering with pleasure as Graves once again slides his hands under that camisole and traces feather-light patterns across his sensitive skin. It’s taken them a while to even get this far. Credence, far too used to associating touch with pain, used to freeze when Graves tried to show him any real physical affection. Pleasure was a foreign concept to him, and it took a while for him to even relax enough to let himself be held or kissed.

It was his idea to use a potion he’d come across in one of his schoolbooks to help him loosen up a little. Graves was hesitant at first (what if things went too far and Credence was too caught up in artificial desire to say that he’d changed his mind?) but Newt, their resident expert in venoms and chemical reactions, promised that with some adjustments to the recipe the side effects would be mild.

And so: here they are. Graves can just about pinpoint the minute the potion takes effect, the moment his sweetheart’s last few inhibitions slip away. He feels Credence’s hold on him get a little tighter, his breaths come a little faster, his heart beat a little faster. “Please,” Credence sighs, his head tilting back to accept the line of kisses Graves places up his neck. “Oh, please, more…it feels so good…”

“I told you it would, sweetheart.” Graves unwraps him from the robe, smiling as Credence moans softly at the feeling of the silky material brushing his skin. He’s had _Amaralia_ before, affectionately nicknamed the “desire potion” at Ilvermorny, and he knows what Credence is feeling now, knows that the potion doesn’t just cause arousal, it increases physical sensitivity. “Easy now,” he croons, dropping his head to Credence’s to lick and nibble at his skin, drawing out more startled gasps of pleasure. “That’s it, darling. Just relax into it, just let me touch you…”

He pushes up the silky white camisole and nibbles at Credence’s shivering belly, smiling to himself as he hears the resulting whimper. Slides his hands up under the cool silk and caresses as much of Credence’s skin as he can reach, letting the trembling boy get used to the feeling of another’s hands on his sensitive skin. Aphrodisiacs can soothe ruffled nerves and increase arousal, but they can’t erase years of conditioning to believe that pain is inevitable and pleasure is sinful.

But Credence’s fear seems to have evaporated under the combination of the desire potion and Graves’ tender reassurances, and he’s arching into the touch as if he’s been craving it his whole life…which, Graves realizes with a painful tug on his heartstrings, he probably has. “Does this feel good, sweetheart?” he murmurs, sliding his hand underneath the small of the boy’s back and stroking his thumb across the raised scars there. “You want more, lovely? Want me to keep going?”

“Yes,” Credence breathes, arching into the touch. “Yes, please…oh, Mr. Graves, it’s so good, I want you, I _want_ you—”

“You can have anything you want, darling.” He reaches down and cups Credence’s hard length through the now-damp front of his silk shorts. Fully hard, it’s difficult to miss how generously proportioned Credence actually is, and Graves can’t stop his mouth watering. _I wonder if he’ll let me sit on this later,_ he reflects with a sharp twinge of arousal, and then pushes that thought away, because this is about Credence right now, not him, and leans down to tongue at the slit through the wet satin. 

“Oh _God,”_ Credence moans, and Graves looks up just in time to see his head flung back, dark eyes rolling up in intense pleasure. “Oh please, _please,”_ he gasps. “Please, more.”

“Want me to take these off?” Graves asks, tugging at the waistband of the shorts. Credence nods eagerly, and Graves acquiesces. His heart damn near stops at the sight of Credence’s cock, flushed and swollen and already dripping. Either the potion was more potent than Newt said it would be, or Credence has been absolutely aching for this for a long time now and just needed the slightest push to get him right to the edge. Or a little bit of each, most likely.

“I’m going to take you in my mouth now, lovely,” he says, and waits for Credence to nod, eyes squeezed shut; slick, shining lips parted with moans at the ready, before he does just that. 

The sounds Credence makes when Graves swallows down his cock are…indescribable. He sounds _hungry._ His entire body quivers, hips jolting involuntarily until Graves has to hold him down with both hands. He’s not going to last long; he’s been waiting too long for this and now he’s too lost in pleasure to even think of trying to hold back.

For his part Graves can’t help but let out his own desperate moans around the heavy cock in his mouth, his own hardness throbbing where it’s trapped against the mattress. Instinctively, mindlessly, as if _he’s_ the one under the influence of an aphrodisiac potion, he grinds himself against the mattress as he sucks Credence’s cock like his life depends on it. He feels almost desperate, the need to make Credence come as great as his own need for release.

He tries to draw it out, tries to keep Credence on the edge of all-consuming pleasure and blissful release as long as he can. But Credence is too worked up to last long and he comes, sudden and intense, shooting down the back of Graves’ throat with a keening cry. _He’s still hard,_ Graves realizes. A rush of arousal hits him and he sucks even harder as Credence nearly sobs, arching up into his mouth and chasing the sensation like he’ll never have the chance to feel it again. 

Graves conjures slick on his fingers with barely a thought and slides a hand underneath Credence’s hips, silently praying to the fates that this isn’t going too far, and gently nudges at the boy’s entrance. As if his body has been waiting for it Credence yields easily, more hungry, whimpering cries spilling from his throat as he lifts his hips off the bed, giving Graves more room to work. Graves willingly slides deeper into that tight heat, searching for the spot that will make Credence burst with pleasure.

When he finds it Credence thrusts so hard into his mouth that Graves chokes, but no power on this earth will stop him from finishing this now. He breathes through his nose, wills himself to not gag and keeps going, bobbing his head in time to Credence’s jerking thrusts and sliding another finger in beside the first.

And Credence is almost _screaming_ now, sweat slicking up his skin, nearly inhuman noises spilling from his lips as Graves crooks and twists his fingers inside him, stroking him right where it counts. There’s nothing else in the world except the two of them now, nothing but pleasure and heat and _need,_ and any second now, oh God, any second—

Graves comes suddenly and without warning, and the vibrations in his throat from his own moans of pleasure seem to be the last push Credence needs to come again. Graves swallows it all down like he will lose something vital if he misses even a single drop, and when he finally lets Credence’s softening cock slip from his mouth, for a moment he almost feels bereft.

But no—he still has work to do. He crawls up beside his boy, whispering cleaning charms along the way to get rid of the sweat and lube and semen dripping onto the bed, and pulls his shivering lover into his arms. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs, stroking his boy’s trembling back. “I love you so much, sweetheart. You did it, baby. You did so good.”

“Did I—did we—was that it?” Credence looks up at him, lost and vulnerable and dazed with pleasure. “Have we—”

“We’ve done it, lovely. You let me make love to you.” Graves pulls him in close and nuzzles him, a gesture almost animalistic in its tenderness. “I’ve got you, baby. You can rest. You can sleep now if you need to. You did so good, baby, so good…”

The best part isn’t the sex or his own orgasm, Graves thinks, utterly exhausted, as they lie there tangled together. It’s feeling Credence resting in his arms, sated and calm and happy…and safe. Always, _always_ safe.


End file.
